Table Manners
by Snowmen in the Closet
Summary: During a dinner with the Allies, England gets ticked off by America's table manners. Although, he can't help but love him ;) This is a UsUk fanfic.


A/N: Hi there! This is my first Hetalia fic, so please enjoy it! I should probably work on my -Man fic but... I was distracted alright?! Anyway, the next chapter for that one should be up by mid October. It would be up SOONER but I was busy...

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia Axis Powers, the genius named Hidekaz Himaruya does!

"Sod off, you bloody wanker!" screeched England. He'd had just about enough of America's teasing. His constant and non-stop banter was okay at times but right now just borderline annoying. Seriously, it was as if America could reach levels of annoyingness unheard of by humanity before.

This time, the fool was insulting his delicious scones. _You know, the only reason they burn up so often is because of the high number of faulty ovens in the world_, he thought, _every time I get a new one, it still burns everything! I'll show those wankers one day... They'll be kneeling at my feet, begging for one of my heavenly scones._(One might argue that they were heavenly since they killed you immediately and sent you to heaven. Actually, they most likely sent you to hell. That's how horrible they were.)

It all started after a meeting with the Allies. They decided to go to a Chinese restaurant for dinner and there happened to be a hold up with the food. England calmly suggested he help the kitchen staff but everyone burst out laughing. He didn't quite get it, it wasn't meant to be a joke. Hell, it wasn't even meant to be remotely funny!

"Don't tarnish my food's good reputation, aru!" exclaimed China, he had stopped laughing earlier (**much** earlier) than the rest and had instead adopted an expression of horror and dread.

"_Angleterre, pensez-vous que vous pouvez _vraiment _leurs assistez?_" Drawled France in a mocking tone. England had spent hundreds of years with that frog and endured that stupid language and he still didn't have the foggiest clue as to what that meant. Either way, it still worked him up. Whether it was because he knew he was insulted or because he had to listen to that cursed language, he didn't know. Most probably both. And most probably the combination of the two just made him more upset.

Russia just decided that laughing was enough. And it certainly was. His jovial laugh was downright creepy and England didn't think he wanted to know what the Russian was thinking at the moment. Or any moment at all, really.

And last but not least... HIS words.

His annoying laughter was the most grating to England's ears. So cocky and loud... Just hearing it made him want to strangle his former colony.

"Dude, I'm pretty sure no one here wants to taste your cooking. Especially your scones. We don't have a death wish, Iggy," stated America (Hey, hold on a moment! It wasn't _stated _because it _wasn't_ a _fact_.) The American's arrogant voice and the use of that ridiculous nickname just made the former empire explode.

A moment of silence...

And then...

THE END OF THE WORLD. Or more specifically, WWIII.

Just kidding, it would be the end of the world if everybody in it was completely opposed to USUK, because I would f*cking destroy it and all of its stupid inhabitants (A/N: Please don't take any offense to the "stupid" comment if you or any one you know doesn't like USUK. This was written as a joke and I too have a FrUk obsessed friend.) USUK is a _beautiful_ thing, I could not imagine a world without it. And so... if the world didn't have it... THE WORLD SHOULDN'T EXIST AT ALL.

What actually happened:

A moment of silence...

And then...

"Sod off, you bloody wanker!" This brings us back to current events. "Fine," England gave in, "I won't try to be nice and helpful." With that said, he crossed his arms and leaned back on his chair.

America coughed and said under his breath, "Poisoning us wouldn't be helpful..." This earned him a death glare from a ticked off set of green eyes.

"And I _won't _give them a taste of my _heavenly_ scones," he continued.

It was then that their food finally decided to arrive. The smell wafted to his nose and he decided to dig in, in silence. And in a gentlemanly manner. No need to talk to those imbeciles.

England must admit that he food tasted wonderful... But not as wonderful as his precious scones. Definitely not.

During the dinner, China chatted with Russia (it's a miracle that _someone _was even able to hold a conversation with that guy without peeing their pants.) while America and France tried to hold their own conversation with England. He simply ignored them.

Though what he couldn't ignore was the sound of America chewing. With his mouth open. As it opened and closed, it gave you a glimpse of what was inside. It was not a pleasurable sight. The noise was of the slapping of both his lips and mouth. It was a wet kind of noise and was being repeated far too much for his liking._ Make it stop_, he thought. He just couldn't take it anymore.

"Would you _please_ mind your manners and chew more quietly? With your mouth _closed_?" he snapped.

America -and the rest of the table- looked at him. His mouth was opened. Tsk, he's still showing his half-chewed food to everyone in its view.

Nobody replied to his outburst. _What a bunch of wankers they are_, he thought. In fact, no conversation was being held at the table at all. England felt a bit guilty for snapping at his former (and favourite, though he would never admit it) colony. He was as cute as a button back then. Even though he didn't grow up to be the gentleman England wanted, America still grew up to be quite handsome and charming.

England continued his dinner in silence. Complete silence. Wait... Silence?

Although the atmosphere had an awkward tinge to it, no loud chewing sounds were made.

Glancing up from his meal, the Brit found that the American was actually heeding his advice. He was still eating at the speed of light (and eating such large quantities of food that England had to be a bit worried), his mouth stayed closed and chewing noises from him were largely reduced. He also had a bit of a sad expression on his face. Now he definitely felt guilty.

England sighed before running a hand through his hair and saying, "Bloody hell, America, I'm _sorry _for snapping alright?"

America perked up immediately and smiled brightly at him. The smile was just so innocent. So America.

England felt the tips of his lips quirk up in a smile as well. He didn't know why, but that just made him immensely happy. His effort to please him still... Just simply adorable. And he'd daresay, successful too.

See? He knew there were reasons as to why he liked the American.

A/N: That's it, folks! I hope you like it! It's my first Hetalia fic so I don't know if it's any good or not.

"_Angleterre, pensez-vous que vous pouvez _vraiment _leurs assistez?_"means, "England, do you _really_think that you could help them out?" I speak Canadian French so I'm not sure if this is how a Frenchman would say it. But it's certainly how I'd say it! Oh, French Immersion, how you help me so... But I'm not sure whether to change the "vous" into a "tu" since using "vous" expresses respect and... With their love-hate relationship... Do they really have any respect? They probably do, but they certainly wouldn't let the other one know!

Also, for those of you thinking "It's spelled 'favorite' not 'favourite'!" I'm sorry but that's how everyone spells it here in Canada :) I'm also sorry if there were any mistakes here that I missed. But please review! Please? Pretty please? With a polar bear on top? Wait, what? Polar bear? Where did that come from?! Okay, let's try that again:

Please? Pretty please? With a tomato on top? It would mean the WORLD to me. And you Hetalia fans should be able to relate to how much the WORLD means to me 3

Le Chat Noir


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